In
July 25, 1745, Prince Charles landed in Moidart, with seven
companions, afterwards known as “the Seven Men of Moidart.”
They were: The Duke of Atholl, exiled since 1716; Aeneas Macdonald
an Irishman; George Kelly, an Irishman; Captain O’Sullivan,
an Irishman; Sir John Macdonald; Sir Thomas Sheridan; Colonel
Strickland, an Irishman. A strangely unsuitable party of men
for the task in hand. Apart from the Duke of Atholl, they had
neither status nor political value. The Prince’s favourite,
O’Sullivan, was later appointed Quartermaster-General
in the Jacobite army, says one historian, “A task for
which his ignorance of the duties involved was only matched
by
his conceit.” The Highland chieftains at first were slow
to rally round the Prince. The first to meet him, Macdonald
of Boisdale, urged him to go back to France.

One writer comments, “Had it not been for the powerful
support of Clan Cameron, led by Lochiel the Younger, the rising
would have made little headway.” But presently the fiery
cross was sent round for the Prince, and Jacobite sympathisers
began to assemble round him. On August 16, the crimson and white
banner of the Prince was
raised at Glenfinnan before some 1000 men—Camerons, Macdonalds
and Stuarts. At the ceremony the Prince was gay and excited.
He began to wear Highland dress and to learn a little Gaelic.
Meantime, the Government had set a price of £30,000 on
his head, but not then, nor at any time later, did the Scottish
people seek to betray the Prince. On August 31 the Jacobite
army had swollen to 4000 men. By that time it had reached Blair
Castle, the home of the Duke of Atholl, on its march southward.
Ahead of the Prince, on September 3, a body of men commanded
by Cameron of Locheil had taken possession of the Fair City
of Perth, meeting with no resistance.
Cameron at once pressed the town drummer and the town piper
into his service, taking them with him when he went to the Town
Cross to proclaim King James II and his son Charles as Prince
Regent. Alarmed by these high-handed proceedings most of the
town magistrates, headed by Provost Crie, fled southwards.

The
Perth of those days that thus lay under the feet of the Jacobites
has been described as “a neat little city pleasantly situated
between two greens which they call Inches, and which serve for
bleaching their linen, of which they have great manufacture
here. “The town has three long streets and many cross
ones, with an old
outer wall in ruins surrounding every side except that which
is bounded by the River Tay. There was no bridge, the river
being crossed by ferries. The population was roughly one-third
of the present population.”

On the evening of September 4, while the setting sun shed its
red gleams across the gables and tall chimneys of the city,
glittering on the weather-cock of St. John’s Church, the
Jacobite army entered Perth by the North Port and Skinnergate
led by the Prince—”Amid the almighty din of bagpipes
they made a brave show.”
The citizens cheered a welcome and the bells of St. John’s
rang out gaily. Charles made an imposing figure, dressed as
he was in Highland garb laced with gold and with the green ribbon
of the Thistle order. One writer comments, “He rode a
white horse, heedless that a
white horse was the cognizance of the House of Hanover.”

Comments of others who witnessed the scene describe the Prince
as “a well made man” and “taller than any
in his company.” Prince Charles excelled in more than
mere appearance. Compton MacKenzie says, “Charles was
a match in powers of endurance for any of his men. He could
run faster, jump higher and out-wrestle them, he was even a
better man with the claymore in mock
combats.”

In
Perth the Prince was met by the Duke of Perth, Mercer of Aldie,
Oliphant of Gask, Lord Strathallan and Lord George Murray, among
others. The most important of these to the Prince was Lord George
Murray. Well aware of his experience as a military leader, the
Prince lost no time in appointing him Lieutenant-General—a
post he had to share with the Duke of Perth. Afterwards, to
keep the peace between his two commanders Charles alloted to
them the same number of men in battle. Also they were given
alternate command of the army right wing, and supreme command
on alternate days.

One writer comments, drily, “It was hardly an arrangement
that made for efficiency.” Handkerchiefs were waved enthusiastically
from tenement windows as the Prince was conducted to his lodging
at the foot of
the High Street—a wooden-fronted building which belonged
to Viscount Stormont, a gentleman of Jacobite sympathies. During
his stay in Perth the Prince made his headquarters in the Salutation
Hotel where, we are told, he occupied Room 12. For the next
day or so Charles busied himself arranging daily drill for his
troops on the Inches. The North Inch was smaller then. Opposite
Balhousie Castle a wall called the “White Dyke”
ran
across the grass to the River Tay, “to keep the Muirton
farmers from encroaching on the Inch.” The building of
this wall was apparently paid for by the fines imposed on the
brewers and bakers for fighting with the weavers!
Charles was able to write to his father from Perth: “I
have got their (the Highianders’) affection to a degree
not to be easily conceived by those not able to see it. He who
observes the discipline that I have established would take my
little army to be a body of picked veterans, and to see the
love and harmony that reign amongst us you would be apt to look
on it as a large well-ordered family. “I keep my health
better in these wild mountains than I used to do in the Campagna
Felice and sleep sounder on the ground than I used to do in
the palaces of Rome.”

The Highlanders on the whole were well behaved with the possible
exception of two, who seized a Perth shoemaker and took from
him a pair of new shoes that he was wearing. The indignant shopkeeper,
who had noted the robbers’ tartan, complained to their
chief when he came into the shop to buy snuff. “They are
not my men,” said the chief. “How can you be so
sure ?“ asked the shopkeeper. “If they had been
mine,” explained the chief, “they would have taken
your stockings as well !“

It
is said that Prince Charles had only one guinea in his pocket
when he rode into Perth. The rest of his money had gone to the
chiefs in his army for the maintenance of their men. To refill
his treasury Charles dispatched detachments to all the towns
in Perth and Angus to collect Government taxes. From Perth £500
was collected and more from Edinburgh. While arranging Perth’s
financial contribution the Prince, accompanied by a Highlander,
had occasion to call upon a Perth bailie. The official greeted
them wearing a large well-powdered periwig.
The Prince’s head was bare, and it seemed to the simple
Highlander wrong that his master should be not so well attired
as a mere bailie. So with all speed he transferred the bailie’s
wig to the Prince’s head, exclaiming, “It was a
shame to see ta like o’ him, clarty thing, wearing sic
a braw hap when the verry Prince himself had naethin’
on
ava!” To keep the peace Charles restored the wig to its
rightful owner amid the indignant protests of the Highlander.

The
ladies of Perth and the surrounding neighbourhood invited the
Prince to a ball, but he fetched their wrath on his head by
withdrawing after only one dance—his excuse being that
he had to inspect his sentry posts. On Sunday, September 8,
he attended a Protestant service in St. John’s Kirk, where
he occupied the “King’s Seat,” last used by
his father. The preacher was Mr. Armstrong and his text was
14th Isaiah, verses 1 and 2.

A
Hanoverian spy sent to keep a watch on the activities of the
Jacobites in Perth reported back to London: “The Highlanders
are a most desperate crew, resolved to do or die, and headed
by an indefatigable young man of the same disposition.”
On September lithe Prince led his army out of Perth, making
for Edinburgh. Viscount Strathallan was appointed governor of
the Fair City and the Laird of Gask vice-governor. The local
elections that were due were not held, and the town was left
without council or
magistrates. On October 30 a riot broke out in Perth. The occasion
was King George’s birthday. A mob of 100 men “seized
St. John’s Kirk and proceeded to ring the bells, in spite
of the Governor’s orders to desist. Some bonfires were
lit in the streets at night, and Hanoverian sympathisers illuminated
their windows, the mob braking windows that were not so lit.”
Next day 200 Highianders were drafted into the city to restore
peace. And thus Perth was kept quiet for the next three months
that
the Prince’s ill-fated venture lasted. But the Fair City
was only to know Charles in his glad, confident days, for he
never came back to Perth, where he left behind him an
unfading memory of a handsome young Prince, who in happier circumstances
would have made an illustrious king.